


Crash

by geckoholic



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Reality, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 19:57:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1197543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoholic/pseuds/geckoholic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tendo's an EMT in a small desert town on a regular night shift, Alison just wanted to get home after a good day in the office. Neither of them expected the night to take a turn for the catastrophic, but that's exactly what it does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crash

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by totallybalanced, maskitheclown and rocketgirl2. Thanks to all three of you! ♥ All remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> Title is from "Crash" by Decyfer Down.

Tendo had far better reasons to move away from the East Coast than the weather, but the fact that he managed to settle in one of the most rain-soaked areas in the Southwest still manages to piss him off some days. Arizona summer rain might be no match to the icy rain that he knows from home, but he'd kind of hoped for long, dry summers. 

Which, okay, he's getting a lot of really nice, hot weather. Most of the time, except for a few weeks in July, the small desert town that's his new home lives up to the state's sunny reputation. He really shouldn't complain. 

Nevertheless, he's cursing up a blue streak when the rain sets in as he's halfway to the hospital's back staff entrance. It has him soaked through on the short run from his car to the door of the old brick appendage that snuggles up to the actual hospital buildings and houses the ambulances. He's met by a stupid, smug grin from Herc, his partner most nights, as he demonstratively shakes water off the worn old leather jacket he wears every single day, no matter if it's hot and sunny or pouring down. It's a leftover from his time in the Australian military, he told him once. Herc was a field medic, back in the day. Tendo has yet to find out what exactly had him leave home and end up here, if it was love or work or something else entirely, but talking about things that actually matter doesn't really happen with Herc. 

As it is, Tendo throws a few choice words his way and flips him the bird before he goes to check in with Aleksis, the supervisor for the night shift. Like him and Herc, he sort of got washed up here too – rumor has it he was a prison guard back in Russia before he decided to grab his wife and try his luck across the pond. Or, well, knowing Sasha, she probably grabbed him. She's the dispatcher for the night shift. Tendo can't imagine spending all your time with a significant other at home _and_ at work, but then he's not really been in a lot of serious relationships yet. 

Aleksis is leaning on the counter with a cup of coffee in hand. He has a coffee machine that he only shares with Sasha, because they both prefer a broth that could probably strip paint. He looks up when Tendo enters the room, kinda grunts and swiftly turns his attention back to the mug in his hands. That's Aleksis for _quiet night, nothing special_. His English is just as good as Sasha's, but unlike her he doesn't like to use it much. If there's nothing important to say, he won't say anything at all. 

Tendo goes to see Sasha next to collect their first job for the night. He has to wait a few minutes, but then she sends him off with the address of a code 3 at the edge of town. A toddler with what sounds like stomach flu. 

Herc has already changed when Tendo gets back to the break room, sets out for the garage to get their vehicle ready while Tendo replaces his soaked every-day clothes with his work uniform. They get in their usual argument about who's gonna drive tonight, which Herc not-quite-reluctantly loses, and so Tendo climbs in on the driver's side. 

When he rolls out of the garage, the rain has waned a little. It's not pouring down at the moment, enough that he can keep the windshield wipers on half-speed and the patter on the roof car is less violent, almost soothing. 

Herc turns away to yawn. He's always tired; sometimes sneaks naps in the back of the ambulance on quiet nights, and for the first few weeks, Tendo got sort of pissed at that. But before he could start an argument about it, he learned that Herc's got a four-year-old boy at home, raising him alone after his wife got killed in a home invasion last year. He works nights while an elderly neighbor looks after the kid, sleeps when the boy's in kindergarten. As far as Tendo's concerned, he could nap the whole time they're driving around between calls. 

Of course he can't offer that, though. Herc would only turn him down, and huff at him indignantly for good measure. 

They check on the kid – nothing serious, and definitely not a case for in-patient care. Tendo still takes the time to talk the mother down, explain to her how she can best keep her daughter hydrated, while Herc recommends some over the counter medication to the father. 

They've been back on the road for just a few minutes, on their way back in, when the levee breaks. 

For most of the year, the river that flows through midtown is a calm, shallow stream. Kids play there, and you can usually see the ground through the clear water. Not so much at times like this. The rain makes the riverbed fill up, sometimes to the edge of what it can take and, very rarely, beyond that. Tendo's heard stories about the last serious flood, some time in the seventies, about what a mess the city was, how the power went out in the hospital, how people’s cars got taken with the stream and were found on the other end of town. They're far enough away from midtown that they can't see what's happening, but they can _hear_ it. His first thought is an explosion, and it's probably a testament to his big city roots that his second is terrorists. 

“Shit,” Herc says then. “Fuck, the levee.” 

He gestures towards the town center. They're directly heading towards, and a few moments pass before Tendo makes that connection and stops the car. Herc's out of the car the second it stops, running uphill until he reaches the bend from which he can get a better look at the area that's likely to be flooded. 

He's panting when he gets back. “It's bad. I don't think we can get back to the hospital unless we take the long way around, head out of town and then back in from the other side.” 

Tendo nods. He's trying to sort his thoughts, concentrate. They've been trained for situations like this, but he's no robot, and weirdly enough in his experience it's easier to stay calm when he's got someone to save, something else to focus on beside what's happening around him. He climbs back into the car, presses the button for the radio. “Sasha? This is A04, please come in?” 

The radio crackles with static long enough that Tendo and Herc exchange a worried glance, but then Sasha's voice comes, a low brawl with a thick Russian accent, made worse when she's stressed. “Yes, yes. We're here. You boys all right?” 

“We're fine, we weren't in the area.” Tendo pauses to scan the street signs nearby; he didn't pay attention to that when they stopped. “Right now, we're halfway up Madison, and there's no way we can make it past the flooding. Got anything for us this side of the levee?”

She rummages around, and there's yelling. Calls are bound to come in fast, right now. “Yes. I've got a unit I can't reach on Main Street, A02. They were responding to a code 3 traffic accident, hardly more than a fender bender, but I lost contact and they're not far from you. Can you look into it?”

“Sure,” Tendo answers, without even looking up to check with Herc. Colleagues, of course they're up for it. A02, that's the Beckets. Brothers, and he likes them both; they go out for an after-work beer together now and then. “Just give us the last known location, and we'll be on our way.” 

She rattles off the address and wishes them good luck. 

Herc hops back into the passenger seat, glances over their equipment in the back and runs a hand through his hair. “We should leave the car. It's gonna be useless when we reach the flooding. Let's grab what we can carry, and head down the rest of the way on foot.”

 

***

 

Alison's day had started so well. She talked to her supervisor in the office first thing this morning, got a compliment for her work on the Hershington account. He’d even mentioned a possible promotion. If something fitting came up, he'd put in a good word for her, he'd said. She went to lunch with Cora from the sales department, and they were going to meet again. Between work and settling in, it was her first real chance to make a friend in this town. She followed Nick here just a few months ago – which she'd regretted many times since, their relationship was so much easier when it was long-distance – and everything still feels new and unfamiliar. 

And now here she is, stuck in the back of an upturned ambulance, washed down Main Street in a fucking flood wave. Screw work, screw the Hershington account, screw Cora from Sales, and most of all, screw Nick. She's going back to Denver. Well, if she makes it out of here in one piece, that is. The overhead lights are still on but flickering, giving this thing a light show worthy of a horror flick, and the EMT who was patching her up when the flood hit is laying a few feet away from her, unconscious. At least she hopes that's all he is, and that she's not sharing the space with a corpse. 

That was the worst thought she could have had, surely. Alison's been fighting not to panic for the last ten minutes, and now her breath's starting to go faster without her permission. She can feel her own heartbeat, her heart pumping away in her chest in a non-steady rhythm. She'd ask the EMT whether or not that's a reason to be worried, yet, but... yeah. Fuck. 

Okay, no. She's not going to freak out. _She isn't._ Someone's going to come and get them, and she just needs to keep it together until then. Maybe meet them halfway, give them a signal, make herself known. She doesn't dare opening the back doors to see where they landed, afraid she'll let more water in – her feet are wet already, and she's distantly aware of a burbling noise somewhere, suspects more is trickling in.

First, make herself known. That's a good plan, she decides. The driver's not in here, he'd been out there helping the driver who bumped Alison, but there's no barrier between her and the driver's cab. She should be able to get in there, turn on the siren. 

Said and done. Alison stands up. She slides a little on the wet metal, curses, pulls off her cutesy work pumps and continues barefoot, feeling her way across the wall for support. Crawling past the driver's and passenger seat is not easy with nowhere solid to push up from and with everything upside down, but her third attempt is successful. Once in there, she's lucky – most of the controls that aren't the same as in every other car have little handwritten notes on them, faded but still readable, and she finds the siren without any trouble. Immediately the blare of it drowns out every other sound, and Alison nods to herself. Step one is done. Good. 

When she crawls back out of the cab, she's too fast. Before she really knows what's happening, she's lost her balance, landed on her ass, perplexed and shocked. Her heartbeat grows louder in her ears again, panic threatening to take over again. But she refuses. She's not going to flip out. No way. A couple of deep breaths, and then she realizes that her misfortune might just be giving her a useful clue. Sitting in the water, barely an inch high now, about to pull herself up, she feels it flow past her hands. Carefully, she props herself up on hands and knees to follow it. 

It takes her some grabbling around with her eyes closed and her heart in her throat and the entirely unhelpful expectation of coming across a syringe or something at any moment, but eventually she finds the leak. Something has pierced the metal by the wheel bearing on the side the ambulance is laying on, and that's where the water's getting in. No heavy flow, granted, but she doesn't know how long she's going to be stuck here, so she looks around for a way to fix it, even if it'll be temporary. Nothing in her vicinity seems helpful, so she gets back up, intending to raid the cabinets she can still reach that have of medical supplies, the ones that aren't broken or already under water. 

She's still busy pulling out drawers and flinging their contents around in her search for something useful when she hears a knock on the back doors, loud enough to be heard over the blaring of the siren. It's quickly joined by a rattle, most likely from someone trying to pull them open even though they're probably deformed and stuck from the crash. 

Part of her is glad that someone's there now, that she's not alone in this anymore, but another wants to panic all over again. What if it's not help, but some thugs, looking to – 

“Hello? Someone in there? Please stay calm, we're here to help.” The voice is male, sounds exhausted and worried. Not a thug, then. Probably. 

Alison decides to risk it. “I'm in here! The EMT is too, but he's out.” 

“Okay,” says the guy, then something else that Alison can't hear, as if he's talking to another person outside, before he speaks in her direction again. “Okay. What's your name? I'm Tendo.” 

“Alison,” she says. “My name is Alison.” 

“Good. Listen, it's a little difficult to get the door to open, but we're on it. A few minutes, yeah?” 

Alison leans against the cabinet she was rummaging around moments ago, closes her eyes, the sound of the siren ringing in her head. A few more minutes. She can do a few more minutes. “Yes. Yes, all right.” 

“In the meantime, can you turn off the siren? And then, can you tell me about the EMT? Is he hurt? Bleeding anywhere? Can you feel his pulse?” 

That didn't occur to her. She saw him laying there, she hopped around to fix things, but she never once thought to feel his pulse, see if he's still breathing, and now that she's told to it seems so obvious, the first thing you'd do. Dammit. “Yeah. I'll just need to... Give me a minute.” 

She pushes herself off the cabinet, scrambles over the mess towards the driver's cabin to turn the switch for the siren then back to where the EMT's laying. No blood, still, except for a dried trail from a cut on his forehead. She kneels down, listens for his breath. It's shallow, but there. Feels for his pulse next, and there is one, albeit she has no idea if it's healthy or not. “He's breathing, and I feel a pulse. Not bleeding, except from a scratch on his forehead.” 

“Good, very good.” The metal creaks, and Tendo says something else she makes out but this time it sounds like a curse. Probably not in English, either. Alison smiles. “My colleague is getting more gear to open the doors. In the meantime, tell me about you. Were you on your way home?”

She rests her hand on the chest of the EMT, lightly, just to feel his heartbeat. Assure herself someone's still alive in there. “Yes. Actually, work was pretty great today. Maybe I shoulda done overtime.” 

Tendo laughs. “Yeah, maybe you should have.” 

“I've only been living here for a couple of months. My boyfriend's from around here. We met on vacation in Miami, and I moved here for him.” She sighs. Nick is going to be _livid_ when he hears about the car. Happy she's alive, at first, sure, but then he's going to burst a blood vessel. He's got a temper. Not the beating-her-bloody kind thereof, he wouldn't, but he gets worked up over nothing. Not a very charming character streak, that one, and so much easier to ignore over the phone. “That was a mistake, though.” 

“Was it? And where are you from, originally?” 

“I grew up in Denver. And here I thought living in the countryside would be boring.” 

Another laugh from Tendo, warm and honest, and she likes the sound of it. 

“Yeah, I can relate”, he says. “I'm from New York, and I came here because I thought it would be nice and quiet.” 

There's something else in his voice, then, something almost melancholic, and it makes her want to pry. Her mother taught her better than that, though. No asking virtual strangers to tell her their life stories. “That didn't work out so well for either of us, eh?” 

“Let's not judge the countryside by one bad day.” He seems to turn away again, a hushed exchange, presumably with the co-worker he mentioned. “Okay, Alison, I want you to get as far away from the doors as possible. Take the EMT with you, if you can.” 

She looks around, decides that she's going to climb towards the driver's cabin. There's not much she can do to move the EMT, but hopefully that won't be a problem, he's pretty far from the door as it is. “Okay. I can't move him, but I think he's relatively safe. Give me a minute.” 

“Just tell me when you're ready.” 

Alison positions herself half-hidden behind the passenger seat, hands gripping the edge of it. She closes her eyes again, face turned away from the doors. “All right. Ready.” 

 

***

 

The back doors of the ambulance are bent and tilted, and even with the two of them putting in all their weight it takes Tendo and Herc three attempts to pry them open. There's water still streaming down the road, not very high, but enough to make the already-soaked ground slippery as hell. They manage eventually, though, and Tendo's the first to jump in while Herc's opening them up all the way. 

Alison is wedged between the passenger and the driver's seat, white-knuckling the edges of both, eyes screwed shut. She's about his age, dark curls in a loose ponytail, wearing a business dress with jacket and skirt. Her hair clings to her face in wet streaks, big earrings trembling with every heavy breath she takes. She's got a band-aid on her collarbone, and more on her arms and fingers.

  
  
(art by [StarsGarters](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1178921))  


He says her name, and she slowly opens her eyes. “Is it over?”

“Yeah.” Tendo climbs over some debris and medical supplies strewn across the ground, reaches out to take her hand, hauls her towards him when she takes it. “It's over.” 

He guides her out of the ambulance and uphill a few feet, until she's out of the water enough that she can sit by the side of the road, then goes back in to help Herc rescue the EMT – Yancy. They put him on a stretcher from the upturned ambulance right next to Alison, already coming to. 

Herc marches off to get their car a little closer and let the hospital know that they're safe and sound, and Tendo sits with Alison. She looks up when he lowers himself down next to him. “What about the other driver and the other EMT?” 

“They're fine. Checked in while we came here, Herc – my colleague – told me about it when he arrived with the gear.”

“Good.” She nods. “That's good to hear.” 

He scans the way she's sitting, one arm curled around her middle, hopes it's not because of pain in her abdomen. He's asked her about it twice now, but with the shock... “Are you hurt anywhere? Beside the cuts on your face and arms, I mean. Any pain?”

Alison stares at him for a moment, uncomprehending, then shakes her head. “No. I'm not.” 

“Mind if I –“ he points towards her wrist. When she holds it up, he wraps his fingers around it, counting in his head. Her heartbeat is quick, but steady. “A headache? Feeling nauseated?” 

“No. I'm fine. Got shaken a bit, that's all.” She smiles, slides her hand up so it's level with his. “You know, we should go out for a coffee later. When things have calmed down. God, I could use a nice, warm cup of coffee. Dark and strong.” 

Tendo stares at their hands, unmoving. “Don't you have a boyfriend?” 

The smile on her face turns into a full-on, somewhat devious grin. He likes it. “I had a near-death experience. Well. Something like it, anyway. I'm going to reevaluate my life.”

He's not going to hold her to that, but yeah. A cup of coffee. There's nothing wrong with that. It's not a even a date. People in relationships can have friends, too, right? Friends they go out for a cup of coffee with. They both could use some friends around here. And if something more happens later, well, he'll cross that bridge when he comes to it. 

He squeezes her hand, once, before he lets go of it. “Yeah. I'd like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is quite probably not how ambulances work, and may not be how weather works either (though there is such a thing as a [North American Monsoon](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/North_American_Monsoon), apparently, which sparked the idea for the flood wave in this fic). Online research only takes you so far, and I apologize for any inaccuracies. 


End file.
